


first and third

by AudreyV



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Guilt, Incest, Loss of Virginity, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Pon Farr, Sibling Incest, Smut, Strap-Ons, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: Michael will do anything for the people she loves. Even things she knows she shouldn't.





	first and third

**Author's Note:**

> Note the tags, y'all. 
> 
> Ever since 2x01, I've wondered what could possibly be this terrible thing that happened between Michael and Spock that she keeps bringing up but can't bring herself to actually say. 
> 
> And thus my love of this trash het incest ship was born. 
> 
> (I don't love the title of this fic but I can't think of a better one.)

“Tell me about your first time.” Philippa’s voice broke the comfortable silence of Michael’s quarters.

Michael looked at her even though Philippa was turned away, facing the mirror. Michael watched as Philippa combed her fingers through the plaits in her hair, unraveling her prim on-duty style into a cascade of loose waves. The transformation from commanding officer to woman fascinated Michael.

“Your first time,” Philippa prompted gently and Michael realized she’d been staring, speechless.

“First time doing what? Docking a shuttle?” Michael asked playfully.

“Is that what they call it on Vulcan?” Philippa sauntered over to the bed with a sparkle in her eye. Michael’s heart beat in double time.

“Well, on Vulcan they mostly call it Pon Farr.”

“Ah, yes. A time shrouded in mystery.” Philippa sat on the bed next to her, close enough to be a distraction. “Perhaps you could educate me.”

“What do you wish to know?” Michael hesitated. “On second thought, perhaps you should tell me what you already know, so we don't retread ground. And so I can correct any misconceptions.”

“I know it occurs every seven years.”

“Roughly.”

“It primarily affects male Vulcans but female Vulcans can experience it as well, under unique circumstances.”

“Yes. It can be ‘catchy.’ And I know there are cases of Vulcan women going into Pon Farr due to temporal or spacial anomalies. But generally it affects men.” Michael was curious why Philippa was asking so many questions, but she knew her lover’s intent would reveal itself in due time.

“And the options for one in Pon Farr — a fight to the death or sex?”

“A sufficiently brutal fight can ease the blood fever without the death of either party. And meditation is a third option, but only an exceptionally strong mind can go that route.” Michael’s discomfort with the topic of conversation continued to rise, but the heat of Philippa’s body next to her and the weight of Philippa’s gaze on her made her want to soldier on, regardless of the gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

“Are there professionals who offer sex to unpartnered Vulcans in Pon Farr?” Philippa asked.

“Prostitutes?” Michael asked, eyes wide. “No. Vulcan culture emphasizes a lifelong bond.”

“No sex outside of marriage then?”

“There are many types of lifelong bond that are not marriage,” Michael said pointedly. She was pleased when Philippa smiled and blushed.

“How many people have you been with?” Philippa asked suddenly. “Before me.”

“I don't see the relevance of that question.”

“I'm curious.” Philippa cupped Michael’s face gently. “And perhaps slightly concerned that I was unknowingly your first.”

“Have no fear. You were not.” Michael considered her words for a moment as she covered Philippa’s hand with her own. “You are third.”

“A good solid number.”

“And you?”

“I’d have to dust off a few old personal logs to get a good count, to be honest.” Philippa stiffened.

“You're having an emotional reaction to that,” Michael observed. “Why?”

“I suppose I feel I should have kept better track.” Philippa shifted, leaning closer to Michael and looking her directly in the eyes. “It also highlights the difference between us, both in experience and age.”

“Neither of those things bother me,” Michael said firmly. “I’m sure you recall the things that were important. Do you remember your first time?”

“I do.”

“Tell me.”

“Only if you promise you’ll tell me.” Philippa waited for Michael to nod. “Her name was Emony. She was a gymnast. I met her when I was a cadet and she was training for the Galactic Games. We were both quite young and inexperienced. There was a lot of fumbling.”

“I can't imagine you fumbling,” Michael murmured.

“It was ridiculous. I was so nervous. But she was kind to me.” A dreamy look came across Philippa’s face. “And very flexible. But enough about that. Tell me about yours.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start simply. What was her name?” Philippa asked.

“It…” Michael cleared her throat. “It wasn’t a her.”

“Oh. Interesting,” Philippa murmured. She kissed down the side of Michael’s neck. “Here I am assuming it was even a humanoid. Very short-sighted of me.”

“It was a humanoid male.” Michael chuckled at the look on Philippa’s face. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Probably for the best your first time didn't involve noncoporeal entities. Or tentacles,” Philippa added with a smile and a saucy arch of one perfect eyebrow. “What was his name?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I suppose that isn't important anyway. How did you know him?”

“No, I mean I’m not telling you about this at all,” Michael insisted.

“Why not?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“You’ve forgotten?” Philippa asked, provoking a glare from Michael.

“I don’t forget things.”

“Then tell me.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“Please?” Philippa asked, tilting her face up so she could look Michael in the eyes.

“I sometimes hate that I cannot say no to you.”

“Only sometimes?” Philippa smiled and Michael’s heart fluttered. “Go on.”

“Okay. I was 22.” Michael searched her mind for other relevant facts. “It was on Vulcan. I don’t recall the stardate.”

“The stardate is irrelevant! Tell me how it made you feel.”

“Uncomfortable. Much like I am now.” Michael tried to shift away to create distance between them, but Philippa caught her hand and held her there.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she said in a low voice. “I push, I know. I shouldn’t.”

“No— I’m the one who’s sorry.” Michael kissed Philippa’s mouth. She felt herself softening, the walls she surrounded herself with becoming porous. Philippa had that effect on her. “Push. I need it sometimes. I just feel silly talking about this.”

“Why?”

“It was… impulsive on my part.” Michael sighed and looked at Philippa. “Are you really going to stare at me while I tell you this?”

“I was planning to, but if it’s easier if I don’t—”

“It would be.”

“Then I won’t stare at you.” Philippa smirked and ducked her head under the blankets.

“What are you—” Michael’s voice trailed off as Philippa hooked her fingers in the waistband of Michael’s underwear and pulled them down her legs. “Uh… okay… It was on Vulcan. He was in Pon Farr. I’d never been around anyone who was experiencing it, but I’d read about it. How overwhelming the urges could be. However, despite my research on the topic, I was unprepared for the reality of it.”

Michael took a deep breath when she felt Philippa’s mouth on her inner thigh. Having Philippa so close to her always made her feel a little unsteady, but combined with the anxious feeling in her stomach at what she was saying, Michael felt almost dizzy. She focused all her attention on what Philippa was doing to her and continued.

“He began by pressing my body into the wall while he kissed my neck. It tickled a little but mostly felt good.”

 

_The wall was hard and unyielding as Michael squirmed in Spock’s grasp. She looked into his face for anything she could recognize as the brother she’d grown up with, but his eyes were glassy and he looked tortured._

_“We’ll ask Sarek for help. He’ll know what to do,” she insisted._

_“No— please don’t,” Spock begged, his hands clutching at her forearms. “I do not wish to be betrothed.”_

_“Then combat—”_

_“You’d rather I risk death?”_

_“Of course not! But I can’t… help you in this way. It isn’t right.”_

_“That well may be. But is it truly not what you want?”_

 

“And was it? What you wanted?” Philippa asked, breathy and gentle from between Michael’s thighs.

Michael threw her arm across her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said finally, quietly, guiltily. “And when I told him, he knelt in front of me and unfastened my trousers.”

 

_Spock knelt before her, one of her legs thrown over his shoulder as he devoured her. His lips and tongue on her was at first a curious sensation, almost a tickle, but after that initial discomfort (it made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle) the feeling morphed into a warmth that suffused her entire body. Her body felt liquid and she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears._

 

Philippa’s mouth was just as eager, hungry for her, but after months of exploring each others bodies her technique was refined. She knew Michael so intimately (indeed, she had long before their relationship became a sexual one) and she read nonverbal cues like a map of the stars. Michael was sometimes surprised how often Philippa knew what she wanted, sometimes before Michael herself did.

“He did that for a long time,” Michael said.

“Did what?” Philippa asked. “I know but I want you to say it out loud.”

“He used his mouth to stimulate me sexually. Is that specific enough for you?” Michael asked, arching her eyebrow at Philippa, who merely shrugged.

“I suppose so. Go on.”

“At first it was frantic but then he started to take his time. He seemed to find the act itself mesmerizing.”

“I don't blame him,” Philippa murmured.

Michael laughed, but the laugh was cut short by a quick intake of breath when Philippa’s teeth grazed the inside of her thigh.

“Focus, Michael,” Philippa scolded, a light tone to her voice. “What next?”

 

_Spock’s fingers pressed against her opening but no further. Michael’s body shuddered._

_“Relax,” he said, but his words had the opposite effect, reminding Michael what she was doing and with whom._

_“I'm trying,” Michael said. “It’s a little overwhelming.”_

_Spock's tongue lathed against Michael’s clit, firm and flat, and she felt pressure building low in her belly. She groaned as she felt Spock's hand move, slipping along her vulva._

_Michael leaned against the wall as she felt her climax rushing toward her. She let herself tangle her fingers in Spock's thick hair as he stroked her with his tongue again and again._

 

“He was able to make you come like that? With his mouth while you were standing?” Philippa asked. Michael thought she sounded a bit impressed.

“Yes. I was also somewhat surprised, considering it was his first time pleasuring a woman in that or any fashion. But I believe he paid close attention to my responses and used them to adapt his movements for maximum efficiency.”

“Sounds just like a Vulcan,” Philippa said dryly. “Approaching lovemaking as if it were the repair of a dilithium chamber.”

“I wouldn’t call that lovemaking,” Michael said quickly.

“Oh? What would you call it then?”

“Necessary.” Michael smiled down at Philippa. “Your mouth on me… that feels like love.”

Philippa blushed but said nothing. She thought for a moment and then climbed out of bed. Before Michael could protest, Philippa caught her hand and guided her over to the open wall next to the viewport. She gently pushed Michael against it and then knelt in front of her.

“Oh,” Michael said, interest and surprise coloring her voice.

“I thought you might like that,” Philippa said, gripping Michael’s hip with one hand to hold her in place. With the other, she took one of Michael’s hands and placed it on the back of her own head. “Go on,” she instructed and Michael blinked, trying to remember where she’d been in the story.

 

_Michael groaned loudly when she came, back arching and body spasming. She was still in the post-orgasm haze when Spock stood and faced her._

_“Wait, we can't—”_

_It hurt, more than she'd expected. Michael cried out and they both froze, shocked. Her mental fog cleared instantly, replaced by a sharp blankness. She took a series of shallow breaths and tried to re-center herself before finally making herself look at Spock._

_The madness in his eyes had receded, although she knew it was temporary. His face was etched with guilt (as she was sure hers was too.) She waited for him to speak but he said nothing._

_They'd already come this far, transgressed any number of social norms. Stopping now wouldn't undo any of that, so the only logical conclusion was to do what was necessary to break the blood fever._

_“Just… go slow,” Michael said quietly._

_Spock nodded and leaned toward her. She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he pressed his lips to her forehead, a strangely chaste gesture considering their state._

 

“He didn't kiss your mouth?” Philippa asked.

“No. It is not Vulcan tradition to do so. And it felt…”

“It felt…?”

“Too intimate. I know that sounds odd considering the circumstances, but—”

“It doesn't.” Philippa stood, pressing Michael’s body into the wall with her own. She brought their lips together. The movement was gentle yet insistent and Michael relaxed into it almost immediately. She could taste herself on her Captain’s lips as Philippa’s fingers slid inside her.

“Do you think you might…” Philippa trailed off.

“Might what?”

“I could take you against the wall, like he did.” Philippa held up a hand at Michael’s noise of protest. “I can tell you're enjoying this.”

“When I'm with you, it seems wrong to think of someone else.”

“A memory isn't another woman, Michael,” Philippa chided gently. “I'm not threatened by your past, as I hope you do not feel threatened by mine.”

“Only regretful that I didn't meet you sooner.”

“Much sooner and I would have felt like a dirty old woman, preying on her young ward.” Philippa smirked and shifted her fingers so she could ease another inside Michael, who whimpered. “Although the thought of corrupting you is quite tempting.”

“Noted,” Michael said. She relaxed and felt Philippa’s fingers slide deeper. She let her eyes drift closed and visualized the two of them, heard herself groaning as Philippa drove into her.

“Okay, get it,” she heard herself say, breathless and resigned.

Philippa kissed her once more and then walked to the small chest of drawers in the corner.

 

_Spock’s fingers brushed her forehead and cheek and as suddenly as he was in her body, Spock was in her mind. He jolted as if he'd touched a live wire._

_“You're in pain,” he muttered as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before._

_“A little.”_

_Spock’s hand went back to Michael’s face. She felt their minds connecting and suddenly she felt rabid with passion._

_“What are you doing?” She asked, panting and resisting the urge to squirm._

_“Sharing your pain. To lessen it.”_

_“That isn't all you're sharing,” Michael said. She blinked against unbidden mental images of the two of them. Spock under her on the bed, fondling her breasts as she rode him. Standing like this but in a shower with warm water running down her naked body and Spock’s hand covering her mouth. Bright, hot flashes of Spock's feverish fantasies raced through Michael’s brain._

_Michael felt the ache of him stretching her but also the clenching muscles of her body in a way she'd never felt before— as if she was outside herself._

_“I feel what it's like for you,” she said breathlessly._

_“And I you. It seemed only fair.” Spock hesitated. “It should prevent me from inadvertently hurting you. Again.”_

_Michael nodded._

_“Go ahead,” she said and Spock began to move._

 

“A mind meld,” Philippa murmured as she covered Michael’s body with her own. “Fascinating. Is that usual for Vulcan sex?”

“No,” Michael replied. She felt the cold buckle of Philippa’s leather harness against her hip and the hardness of the dildo against her inner thigh. She breathed deeply and looked into Philippa’s eyes, noting an unfamiliar emotion there. “Are you jealous?”

“A little,” Philippa conceded, eyes downcast.

“Don’t be,” Michael replied. “I’d rather you know me inside and out because I’ve shared myself with you, not because you’ve been inside my mind.”

Philippa nodded. A moment later she surged forward and kissed Michael fiercely. Michael yielded gladly, opened her mouth to Philippa’s tongue, slumped against the wall as a flood of desire rushed through her. She felt needy and ragged as Philippa stroked her. Michael couldn’t help but glide her hand up Philippa’s inner thigh to toy with the wetness beyond the leather straps.

“Oh god,” Philippa murmured as Michael’s fingers found their mark. Michael would have continued, probably would have dropped to her own knees and divested Philippa of the strap-on for better access, but Philippa pulled her hand away and pushed her back against the wall.

“Later,” Philippa growled. The sound sent a chill down Michael’s spine and she didn’t resist as Philippa positioned herself between Michael’s legs.

Michael tipped her head back against the wall and swallowed a high pitched cry when Philippa entered her.

“Are you alright?” Philippa asked, suddenly very still.

“Yes,” Michael replied. She steadied her breathing as she felt her body stretching to accommodate the phallus. “It's just larger than I was expecting.”

“I'm sorry,” Philippa said, although Michael didn't think the look on her face was wholly contrite, an impulse confirmed when Philippa added, “I assumed you could take it.”

“I can,” Michael said firmly. “That was a statement, not a complaint. You’d do well not to conflate the two.”

“And you'd do well to remember your place, Number One,” Philippa said, beginning to move her hips, finding a slow, steady rhythm that blended the discomfort Michael felt with a rising passion.

 

_It was slow as she'd asked, and Spock’s fingers weren't digging into her flesh any longer._

_Michael wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he rocked into her. The discomfort was receding fast, drowned out by echoes of pleasure. She could feel her body enveloping Spock’s cock from both perspectives and it fascinated her._

_“Harder,” she said a few moments later and Spock complied._

_It was different than she'd expected. A Vulcan education includes an in-depth study of reproduction and sexuality, but the words on a data pad didn't prepare Michael for the way it felt. It was hot and complicated and beautiful and shameful, all at once. She liked the feeling, even the part that was heavy in the pit of her stomach._

_Her experiments alone at night in her room were pleasurable but detached. Her body responded to stimulation as expected and she could bring herself to orgasm relatively quickly._

_But it didn't feel like this. Having her mind engaged made the experience so different. Knowing that they could face consequences if anyone discovered them added another layer to the experience._

_Knowing that it was Spock making her feel this way, Spock’s hands, Spock’s body…_

_It was blindingly illogical that something so wrong could feel so good._

 

“I didn’t realize Vulcans had such a taboo for sex outside of committed relationships,” Philippa said, punctuating the words with a series of thrusts that left Michael feeling like she might dematerialize from the pleasure and intimacy of the act.

“They don’t,” Michael said, confused. She clutched at Philippa’s ass and tried to pull her even closer.

“You said ‘it was illogical something so wrong could feel so good.’” Philippa’s dark eyes stared into Michael, who squirmed against her. “What did you mean by that?”

“I meant— we were quite young, by Vulcan standards,” Michael said quickly.

“When the average lifespan is two hundred years, I can imagine twenty two would seem a bit young,” Philippa conceded. “Put your arms around my neck,” she instructed.

Michael did, steadying herself with her grip. Philippa tucked her face into the crook of Michael’s neck. She rocked into Michael over and over again and Michael felt herself drawing closer to climax.

“Did he—” Philippa’s words came in ragged gasps against Michael’s ear. “Did Spock come inside you?”

Michael froze. Her head swam and she felt a pulse of cold go through her. She felt Philippa against her, inside her, Philippa’s hand on the back of her neck and her breath hot against her skin.

The shame was in every cell of her body, weighing all of her down. She'd agreed to play this dangerous game and she'd lost. Now Philippa knew how impulsive and illogical she’d been, how she was bound to the lesser impulses of her weak body, how dirty she was.

Philippa’s lips pressed against hers and Michael kissed back. She couldn't stop herself, no matter how unworthy she felt of that kindness. She savored the taste of Philippa’s mouth and let Philippa’s hand unyielding on the back of her neck become her anchor.

Philippa’s other hand snaked its way in between their bodies and stroked Michael’s clit. Michael’s eyes popped open. She regarded Philippa with a question in her gaze, confusion across her face, but Philippa merely kissed her again.

“I asked you a question,” Philippa reminded her in a firm voice. “Did he come inside you?”

Michael shook her head numbly. “No,” she added, just in case it wasn’t clear. (She needed it to be clear, and she wasn’t quite sure why.)

“Well I’m going to,” Philippa growled and all thought of the past and her guilt fled Michael’s mind.

The idea of Philippa using her body for pleasure and then spilling inside her was enough to make Michael groan out loud.

“I’m going to fuck you until you come all over my cock, and then I’m going keep going until I come inside you,” Philippa said in a voice that was firm but not unkind. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Michael sighed, trying to pull Philippa closer, but Philippa pushed her harder against the wall instead.

“Tell me you want it.”

“Please, Philippa. Please fuck me until you come inside me,” Michael pleaded, dizzy from the whiplash of guilt and desire of the previous moments. Dirty talk usually made her feel ridiculous, but Philippa’s eyes were serious and locked on hers and the hunger on Philippa’s face drowned out everything else. “I want you to come inside me.”

“Then come for me,” Philippa said softly.

Michael wondered how such simple words could cut through her so completely.

“Now, Michael,” Philippa added in a firmer tone and Michael felt herself tipping over the edge.

Michael clung to Philippa even as her limbs jerked and her body shuddered. She kissed Philippa with a messy mouth and her body clenched hard around the phallus. Waves of pleasure flowed through her body. Her back arched as the sensations thundered through her. Everything felt overwhelming, hot and supercharged, like her body was being reconstructed on a molecular level.

Later that night, long after Philippa started to quietly snore, Michael went back over the moment in her head, wondering why that particular thing was what did it. Why Philippa giving orders while the residual guilt and endorphins of having been caught crashed through her body made her come hard. Why immediately after she came she clutched at Philippa desperately, as if some otherworldly force might take her away if Michael let down her guard even for a second.

 

_The sweat on her body was starting to cool and Spock’s release was sticky on her thigh. She looked up at him and saw he was avoiding her eyes._

_“It's ruined, isn't it?” she asked with a slight quaver in her voice. The show of emotion embarrassed her but when Spock finally met her gaze his eyes were full of tears too._

_“If it is, please do not blame yourself,” he said. “All you did was what you could to ease my suffering and save my life. The consequences of these moments are mine to bear.”_

_“Perhaps,” Michael said hesitantly, “there need not be consequences.”_

_“Explain.”_

_“Well, it depends on if you can hit me.”_

_When the two of them stood bruised and bloodied in front of their mother’s wilting gaze, Michael thought the worst was over. Amanda believed their tale of undertaking a brutal fight to assuage Spock's Pon Farr. No one would find out._

_She didn't realize neither she nor Spock could forget so easily. That night was the start of the rift between them, the push-pull of guilt and desire that eventually left them strangers separated by a galaxy._

_It was for the best, but Michael still felt that absence deep in her gut. She couldn't imagine any future loss breaking her in those deep, hidden places the way having loved Spock did._

 

“Philippa,” Michael moaned as she slumped into her lover’s arms.

“Careful,” Philippa said, catching Michael easily. “Let’s get you into bed before you end up a puddle on the ground.”

“I can do it myself,” Michael protested, but she let herself lean heavily on Philippa anyway. When they reached the bed, Philippa tucked Michael into the covers before unbuckling the strap-on, tossing it somewhere in the darkness of the room and getting into bed beside her. They laid in silence for a long time before Michael summoned the courage to speak.

“How did you know?” Michael asked softly. She felt Philippa take her hand but kept her gaze on the ceiling.

“You said it yourself. I don’t need a mind meld to know you. I don’t only hear the things you say, but the ones you avoid saying.”

Michael nodded.

“That’s scary to me,” she admitted and Philippa squeezed her hand.

“I understand. Much of this is scary to me as well,” Philippa said quietly. “My feelings for you are… your worth to me is not rooted in your being perfect. There is nothing about you or your past or the choices you’ve made that could change the way I feel about you. Even if I’m not brave enough to put those feelings into words.”

Michael rolled onto her side and curled up. Philippa did the same and intertwined their hands.

“I hear the things you avoid saying too,” Michael said finally.

“Good,” Philippa said as she reached for Michael’s face. “Then stop talking and kiss me.”


End file.
